The Fall
by Bulldust
Summary: All stories must come to an end.


Warning: Death

A slight drizzle beat a steady rhythm onto the tawny pup's flank. They're were three of them. Two larger darker furred pups, and a weaker tawny pup trailing behind. They were ushered on by their lone mother, a smaller she wolf with a coat a soft beige. Autumn had just begun, and it casted the valley in varying shades of brown. Only the thicker clumps of grass still retained their summer colors, their green stems collecting dew.

The lone mother trotted forward a few paces to scout the area, always vigilant. Her plodding gait threw clumps of thick mud behind her, and her footsteps created deep trenches the pups struggled to walk past. The family was thin and weak, unable to fatten up in the summer, and already feeling the stress of the oncoming winter. The lighter pup in particular was having a harder time than the others. She often stumbled and fell behind, needing her mother to return and help her.

The light pup's hind legs soon gave out again, and she crumbled to the ground, water and mud weighing down her thin coat. She gave a shaky whimper to the rest of the small family. Her brother, a softed eyed pup with a redder coat, glanced over his shoulder, but kept going. The weaker pup gave another pitiful whimper and struggled to her feet, only to fall.

She was just about ready to give up when her mother returned to her side, nosing her up to her feet. "Come along Mesa," she gave a soft growl, "We can stop when we reach the end of the valley." Mesa gave another whine, but began to walk forward nonetheless.

They carried on, making their way across the mud strewn valley. The soft drizzle soon became a heavy downpour, filling their ears with white noise and limiting their vision. Her family was a few feet ahead of Mesa, their forms like ghosts. She was slowing down, the weight of the mud caked to her sides only adding to her exhaustion. Her back legs gave out again and she gave another cry, more of frustration than pain. She looked down at her paws as they slowly sank into the mud.

She knew this wasn't normal. They all knew. There was something wrong with Mesa on the inside, and she never had any strength. Her mother did her best to reassure her and take care of her. But it was getting worse.

She had tried to climb to her feet when they felt it. A distant rumble within the earth. The other pups pressed up against their mother in fear. The lone mother sniffed the damp air and looked around, the rumbles growing stronger. She froze in place staring behind Mesa, and the pup didn't have the courage to look back. Their mother pushed her standing pups forward in a hasty retreat.

Mesa scrambled to her feet only to sink in the thickened mud. The fuzzy silhouettes of her family were moving away. Her mother took one last look back, her expression hidden in the fog. Then she turned away and disappeared, leaving her weakest pup behind.

She was about to call out to her family once more when a heavy hoof slammed into the ground past her head. She gave a fearful cry as a herd of elk came running into the valley in a wave of panic. The ground quaked with every stomp from the thundering herd, throwing chunks of mud and water into the air. All she could do to protect herself was to curl into a tight ball and pray that she'd be alright.

She heard the rain fill the pools around her after her ears stopped ringing. After a moment's hesitation, she finally mustered the courage to open her eyes. The landscape before her was in disarray. Elk tracks deep enough to trap her littered the valley, already beginning to fill with water. The heavy downpour lightened into a softer melody. It was far from a drizzle, but at least she could hear her own thoughts now.

Mesa tried to pull herself to her feet, only to have pain overcome her from all sides. She crumpled to the ground with a sharp cry. Multiple kicks from a stampede would cause that. But she was alive, and if she survived, then her family did too. She tried to stand again, careful this time. She managed to get her forelegs up, but her hind legs were submerged in mud. It took all her strength to pull herself out, leaving her gasping for breath. She stayed there for a few moments, and with a whimper she staggered to her feet, and began moving.

She didn't make it very far; her legs were already weak enough to begin with. But the deep trenches in the ground, coupled with cold, pain, and exhaustion were too much for her. She fell down into a rather deep groove, her body splashing in the muddy water. Her face smashed into the sodden earth, with dirt and grass stuffed into her throat far back enough to make her gag. Her coughs turned to shaky whimpers as she gazed around.

The fog hadn't lifted, and there was no sound above the rain. She never felt more alone in her life. There were no landmarks to use, or a trail to follow. She gave a soft sniff, but only breathed in dirt. She hacked and sneezed and tried again, her nose dribbling. Nothing. The air hadn't settled enough for her young nose to catch her mother's scent.

She pulled herself out of the pool she had trapped herself in, and heaved herself onto a relatively flat patch of ground. Or, as flat as hoof prints and clumps of shredded grass could be. Her back legs had given out, there was no more travel for her. She'd have to wait.

It was only after she caught her breath that she realized she was shaking. Her whole body was chilled by the constant rain and succumbing to filling trenches. She curled herself around her legs the best she could, and hoped her mother would return. In the meantime she stared at the rain and shook.

After a while, the ground and air began to blur. It all turned into a muddled beige. It reminded Mesa of her mother. It was a never changing scene before her. It never shifted or evolved into something else. It was stable, constant. Just like her mother. She took comfort in that.

She was just about to rest her eyes when something interrupted her vision. A silhouette in the near distance in front of her. She sat up quickly, a mistake on her part. The form paused at her movement. They both stared at each other, one a quaking pup, another without a face. She new without a doubt that was not her mother. This one was different.

The figure stared long enough to deem the pup interesting, and approached at a slow pace. His form appeared to be a large, redder wolf. She was like her brother, but so much darker. He wore a cold expression on his face, under the scars that littered his visage.

She cowered down as he stopped right in front of her. His features were blank, but his eyes spoke for him. They were as yellow as summer goldenrod, yet they held no warmth. She would have been confused if she wasn't terrified.

They looked at each other for a few moments, before the male lunged forward and snapped his jaws around her throat. She felt his hot breath burn her soaked skin, felt the growl rumble in his throat.

All she could do was scream, until he cut it off with a sickening _crack_.

And then, she felt nothing.

Author's Note: Mesa and Mesa's sibling Steppe, belong to me. The only male pup Cliffe and Jazzy belong to my friend on , the same Jazzy from "Friendship." And I wonder who that mysterious stranger is?


End file.
